


Twenty - Two

by notjustmom



Series: The Boys in Sussex [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Retirement, Sussex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-17 17:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: A long, angsty bit to start your Sunday...





	1. Chapter 1

John fell into the chair next to Z and closed his eyes.

"I can't write it."

Z sat quietly for a few moments, then asked, "and why do you think that is?"

John shrugged. "I don't know."

"I think you do. And it's not something you want to deal with."

"What?"

"It's like with Sherlock. How long did it take you to forgive him? Truly forgive him for leaving you?"

"For jumping? For being dead?"

"Uhmhmm...."

John nodded and was lost to his memories for what seemed like hours. "Longer than it should have. It was after he nearly died for real a couple of times, and I understood, finally understood why he did it. For a long time, I thought he did it to finish a game... and then when I went back to him, after Mary - and saw him, actually saw what his time away had done to him, actually sat with him through his nightmares, I understood... thought I understood."

"You haven't really spoken with her."

John leaned forward into his seat and shook his head.

"You haven't talked to her about things you need to, yet."

"I just don't know what good it will do, now." John sighed and studied his hands. "I don't want to look backwards, Z. I can't make myself live back there again. She's different - from the person I knew. I didn't know her. She was there, and not there, I don't know if that -"

Z nodded.

"It's not going to change anything, how it was then, to talk about it, now. She's happy, Z. I want this to be about her and Emily. It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Poppycock."

John sat back and laughed, then became serious again. "I'm happy, Z. It's - that part of my life - "

"That part of your life is what stops you. Yes, it was almost forty years ago, but you can't tell me it doesn't come up, you still have nightmares, it stops you from understanding Grace, from allowing Sherlock to know and love all of you -"

"I told him." John whispered.

"Not everything -"

"Z -"

"You know you are safe here."

John nodded. "It wasn't her fault."

"She wasn't there. For you."

John shook his head and closed his eyes. "I - not her fault."

"Whose fault was it, Doc? You were ten. Ten when you saved Harry and lost her, ten when your father left. Ten when you were left on your own."

"I wasn't."

"You were and you know it. You never told her - has she seen them -" Z nodded at his arms, covered even in the late summer heat. "Ever tell her the story?"

"No."

"Until you tell her, you won't be able to write about her scars. Em is scar tissue, Doc. You are asking her to look back at her pain, yes, Em was the love of her life, and those photos are sweet, you could publish them as is, or make up a fairy tale about two little girls, but that wouldn't tell the story. Until she tells you, she won't be able to love Howard in the way she wants to, she wants to tell you, but you need to trust her enough to tell her about your own. She needs to know, John."

"I don't want to hurt her."

Z sighed. "She has spent so much of the last fifty years asleep, John. She functioned enough to get by, but she knows it wasn't what she could have done, could have been for you and Harry. It was enough, you both survived, and managed to find the people who love you, but she is aware how much damage there is still. And no, she hasn't told me - I see it when she looks at you, she wants to know, John. Yeah, it will hurt like hell, but you are here, she is here, and Sherlock loves both of you enough, to get you both through it."

 

"Mum?"

John walked into the kitchen and sat down across from her. She lifted her eyes away from her book and looked at his face. She nodded, replaced her bookmark and closed it carefully, laying it aside.

"I need to show you something." He undid the buttons on the cuffs, rolled up his sleeves, and laid his arms out in front of her. She glanced down at the damage, then met his eyes.

"May I?" She whispered.

He nodded and tried not to close his hands into fists. "I was ten." She touched one of the scars gingerly with her finger, stopping as he flinched.

"I know. I'm sorry."

He pulled his arms away, wrapping them around himself. "You didn't do it."

"No, but I didn't stop it. I wasn't there, John. I chose to look away. I thought if I could just get through it - go to work each night, make sure you both were fed and went to school - had enough - it wouldn't matter if I couldn't feel anything. And you paid for that. You hid from me, after Harry and your father left, you did enough to get out. I didn't blame you. I had nothing to give you, then, and you never asked for anything." She looked into his eyes and reached out to touch his face, letting a breath go when he held his hand over hers. "I know how hard it was to show me, now. Now that you think you have everything figured out, you have everything you want, and yet you can't - you are afraid to completely trust anyone, because of me, because of your father - when Sherlock left you - then came back - whatever faith you had crumbled - and you married someone else to hurt him. And he let you, because he believed he deserved whatever pain you gave him. I know, John. You are finally at a place where you are sure of him, he is sure of you and yet, you still wake up from nightmares that you can't tell him about. Of being completely alone. And those are the worst ones. The ones you can't tell him about, because you're afraid he won't understand." John leaned into her hand and she watched the tears fall gently at first, then begin to turn into sobs. She let him go, then stood and walked over to him and pulled him close to her, shutting her eyes as his arms slowly wrapped around her, then held on tightly. "I am so very sorry, John." He nodded against her then quieted, and pulled away, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I need to - uhm, walk Gertrude, will you let Sherlock know, if he - he was lost in those bee books again, he's working on another idea..." He looked up at her and blew out a long breath. "I am so glad you are here, Mum. I hope you know that. Come on, girl." Gertrude got up slowly and seemed to shrug at Grace as she walked out the door at John's side.

Sherlock quietly walked into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. "He'll be fine, Grace." He turned to face her and leaned back against the counter. "I found your journals, I haven't read them, they belong to you... we all have pasts that we wish we could let go of, even the good parts sometimes - John - when we met, he decided to - in spite of my past, he chose to trust me - I still am not quite sure why, but he did, and then, I blew it, torpedoed it, for all the right reasons, or so I believed. To keep him safe. Because I loved him, because I knew that if something happened to him, I couldn't - there would be no reason for my prolonged presence, and I know, that's a bit - I don't know, I existed before I met him, but - I had never loved anyone before - I didn't know that one could go on with a broken heart, it still worked enough, but I made myself, I told myself he couldn't ever love me, no one had before." The kettle screamed and he got up to turn it off. He got out one mug and a single tea bag and poured the water over it, staring into the mug. "It is quite amazing - how water just turns into tea. I have to go find him." He removed the tea bag, binned it, then placed the mug of tea in front of her. "Thank you, Grace." He kissed her forehead and walked out the kitchen door, pulling it quietly behind him. 

She blew on her tea and took a sip, then put it down carefully, and looked at the stack of small notebooks Sherlock had left for her. The top one was the oldest. From the first day she met Emily.

 

10 Aug 

I met Emily today. She is so tiny. But she smiled at me. Just for me.

 

"Hell." She closed the fragile book, drank her tea, rinsed out the mug and carried the stack of books to bed with her.

 

"John."

"Sherlock - you heard -"

"I found Grace's journals and was about to walk in when you - I didn't want to interrupt, but I couldn't move. Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?"

John turned and looked up at him and tried to say something, but shook his head. Sherlock took him in his arms and felt John melt into him. "I am so sorry, Sherlock."

Sherlock shook his head. "Don't - you don't need to do this -"

"I do - every time I hurt you without even knowing, and all those times when I - god, I have -"

"Please, John. We are, we are good, aren't we, John?" Sherlock pulled away and gazed down into John's eyes. "We have apologized enough, haven't we? You are forgiven, John, absolved. Do you believe me? Tell me -"

John snorted and nodded. "Yes, Sherlock, I do, I believe you." He met Sherlock's glittering eyes and whispered, "I do, Sherlock."


	2. Chapter 2

Matilda was still. The bees buzzed quietly, and did what bees did, unwatched. Grace sat in the treehouse surrounded by her past, the words she had written, then buried long ago were returned to her, she thought if she read it all at once - just plowed through it, it wouldn't hurt as much as it could, but there were so many words, too many memories.

John and Sherlock stayed tucked away, from bed to bath and back again, curled up into each other, not speaking, barely moving, just breathing in one another until John kissed Sherlock's forehead and left him to sleep. He carefully slid his legs over the side of the bed, then got to his feet. He threw on his clothes, not caring what it was he put on, and made his way silently downstairs. He sighed as he turned on his phone. Without looking at the messages, he phoned Harry.

 

"Where have you been?"

"Nowhere, just didn't have the phones on."

"John."

"Mum and I talked."

"Shit."

"No, needed to happen." John pinched his nose and took a deep breath. "Just trying to get my sea legs back."

"How's Mum?"

"Sherlock found her old journals. She wrote every day, from the day she met Emily until -"

"Hell."

"Yeah, she's - up in the treehouse. She comes in to eat, and sleep. Hasn't said much." John cleared his throat. "Molly and Greg are going to move in soon, when they get their jobs squared away, and their flat - Sherlock and Greg are going to build a house for them if you can believe it. They want to raise Munchkin here, with us."

Harry was silent for a moment then laughed. "No. I mean it's good, isn't it? Your own little commune - all that's missing is Mrs. Hudson."

"She - we've tried - she's going to stay in London, she's used to things being where - you know, and she worries that Mrs. Turner would be lost without her. That's probably true. I think she's worried one day we would have to take care of her, and she is too - I don't know, she - I keep hoping she'll come visit, but -"

"Yeah.... are you okay?"

John sat quietly for a moment, then opened the kitchen door and took a deep breath. "Yeah. I'm okay, Harry. It's - I - didn't want to lay this all on her shoulders. And Sherlock. He hasn't done anything for the last couple of days except be with me. He hasn't - I'm keeping him from doing what he loves, Harry."

"John. He loves you more than anything else. More than Matilda, or even the bees. There is no other place he'd rather be than by your side, especially when he knows you are in pain, he is doing what he loves. Being with you. Idiot. Go back upstairs and be with him. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Love you, kiddo."

John snorted and muttered back, "yeah, I love you, too, Harry. Our three month anniversary is tomorrow, have no idea what to get him."

"You don't have to give him anything. Write him something if you want, just - don't disappear on him."

"Love you."

"Yeah."

 

John ended the call and closed the kitchen door and went back upstairs, to find Sherlock rubbing his eyes, blinking against the light.

"Hey."

Sherlock didn't say a word, just patted the space next to him. John nodded and slipped out of his clothes, and back into Sherlock's arms, breathing him in once again as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 

Sherlock -

Three months ago today, I thought I was giving you everything I was. Three months later, I am realizing that I will always be a work in progress. I am not that same person who promised to love, cherish and honour you. I don't know that I'm better than who I was then, I know I am learning how much you love me, I am learning love can change, even minute by minute. I don't know why I thought love was a constant. I believed love was love. People fall in and out love all the time. I don't honestly know why or how - but I - even as I watch you climb onto the tractor, and push that cap over your eyes, I love you more than I did when you put my tea in front of me ten minutes ago. I don't even, I can't explain - I don't want to be able to explain - damn. You just looked back at me as if you can hear my thoughts before I even think them.

I love you, so very much.

-John

 

"Mum? I was going to make some curry, are you hungry?"

"What time is it?"

"Three-ish."

"Yeah, I'll be down, John." Grace gathered the journals together and put them back into her bag that she tossed over her shoulder, then threw open the trap door and let herself down the ladder. She laughed at his shock as she jumped from the ladder. 

"Mum -"

She could hear the doctor tone creep into his voice. "John." She laid her hand on his face and sighed. "I'm fine. Just old. But I'm - John, do you know - no, you couldn't. I've been more or less dead for so much of my life. I've missed so much. And you've given me back to me, you and Sherlock, you gave me permission to feel again. It hurts like hell, but -" She shook her head. "You want help with that curry?"

"Yeah, that would be great." John offered her his arm and they walked slowly back to the house.

 

Sherlock read John's note for the fifth time since he came in from working on the area Greg and he had chosen for the new house. He wondered how seeing John's words put on paper made their love feel more solid, made him feel more solid, more human, but less fragile somehow. Like John, he didn't want to solve it, it didn't need an explanation, but he still considered what it meant, and realized the answer would probably be always just out of his reach. He heard the kitchen door open, John and Grace walked in, arguing about some movie that he'd never seen or heard of. He kissed John's letter and put it away with the other note that he kept in the bedside table.

"Sherlock?"

"Coming!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visitor.

Sherlock hopped down from Matilda and pulled off his cap, then turned at the sound of a car and walked towards the driveway. He wasn't expecting anyone today, but sometimes Howard would -

"Donovan?"

"I - uh, I should've called, sorry. But, I have a couple days of leave before - I wanted to see what made the DI, uhm, Greg, quit. I don't know if he's told you yet - I've, uhm, been promoted, to take his place -" she looked at Sherlock, then - "That's the treehouse?"

Sherlock grinned at her and nodded. "Have you had tea? It's nearly eleven, I got a late start this morning - come inside."

"No - I -"

"Donovan. Sally, it was an honest invitation for you to visit, it was a long drive. Come on, you can meet John's mum."

"John's mum? I -"

"Come on. You'll see why he is - the way he is."

"This I've got to see."

 

"Grace?"

"Hmm?

"One more for elevenses -"

Grace looked up from her book and gave Donovan a quick look. "You're Donovan - I'm Grace, John's mum. I read John's write up of the last case, good work - you'll make a fine DI. Scones are just out and tea's ready, I'm going to go sit with Em - she gets a bit - the weather wasn't good enough for me to sit with her yesterday... good to put a face to the name, my dear."

"Sit."

Donovan pulled out a chair and sat quietly until Sherlock put a mug of tea in her hands. "I knew when he came back, he hadn't taken the full week, and he was different. A good different, good for him and Molly, not great for us. He called me into his office, and told me, he had already started the paperwork to push my promotion through - then he stopped and looked at me and got up and closed the door. He asked me if I wanted it. He said he could wait a bit longer if he needed to give the AC other names, recommendations, but he thought I was ready, but if I had any second thoughts, and then he suggested I take a couple of days -"

Sherlock nodded, and sipped at his tea.

"I told him I wanted it, it's what I've wanted since - well, forever, just, I dunno, it feels -"

"You earned it." He got up and put a scone on a plate and placed it in front of her. "Hell, you put up with me for how long?"

She rolled her eyes and took a bite of the scone and sighed. "Damn. You weren't so -"

"I was an arse, you put up with me because the DI - Greg asked you to. I - never quite appreciated what you put up with til the last case - you did it, he would have kept doing it if you hadn't remembered -"

"I didn't -" Donovan looked down into her tea for a moment.

"You did, and I heard you made sure he was watched after - in case - you remembered him, Sally, and his father, and you closed the case right. You are far more compassionate than I ever was... " He shrugged and they ate in silence for a few minutes. 

"Em?"

"Hmm?"

"John's mum, she was going to sit with her?"

"Em was her best friend growing up..."

"Was?"

"She, to put it in plain terms, is our, the spirit of the place." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I know, it's the only way to explain it, unless you are here long enough to - come on. I'll show you the treehouse and you might get an idea." He stopped and looked at her. "Yeah, I don't think Em will mind. I have the feeling she'd like you."

Donovan met his eyes and shrugged. "Stranger things have happened -" She smiled at him and he laughed, and she blinked, then shook her head. "Lead on, then, to this magical treehouse."

 

John pulled into the driveway and gave a brief glance at a car he didn't recognize, then parked the truck and opened the door for Gertrude. "Let's go see who's here, hmm?" 

"Mum?"

"John. How are Z and Glady?"

"Good." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Who's here?"

"Donovan."

"Donovan?"

Grace closed the book she had been reading and stood up. "Think she was curious, wondered what kind of spell we put over her boss."

John laughed and watched as Donovan climbed down the ladder, and walked over to John. "Sorry for not calling ahead - it's quite a place, John. I can see why Greg loves it. Too peaceful for me, though." 

"Yeah, it takes a bit of getting used to, assuming Sherlock gave you your tea?"

She nodded at him and was silent for a moment. "I - do you mind if we walk - oh - you must be Gertrude?" Donovan knelt in front of her and Gertrude cautiously approached, then licked her face until Donovan giggled in delight. "You are a love, aren't you? I always wanted one, but I'm never home - can we walk her, or something?"

John shrugged and nodded and they turned down the driveway.

Donovan waited until they were clear of the farm to begin speaking. "I - I'm not good at apologies, John, and it may be a little late, it's certainly long overdue, but I - back when Sherlock - and Moriarty, I was unfair to both of you, I know it's an understatement, I never understood him, and you - he was a right arse before he met you, and then - he had a partner, suddenly, someone he could count on, and I was jealous. It's that simple. And, I am sorry. Things might not have -"

John shook his head. "It was always going to end like that - took me a long time to understand that. It had nothing to do with what you or Mycroft or Greg did, even what I did or said, Moriarty always intended to take both of them out, and he did." He stopped and turned to look at her. "But I accept your apology, Donovan." He offered her his hand and she shook it - he wasn't all that surprised by the strength of her grasp, but was by the obvious relief in her eyes.

"Thanks, John. Greg is going to walk me through some of the 'paperwork' but basically I'm taking over in a couple of days. I'm happy for him, that he has this, has you guys - he was - for the longest time, all he had was his job, and he was good at it - he was one of the best, but he was lonely, and now, he has Molly and Munchkin, he's actually happy. Strange, you think you have an idea about what that means, happiness, until you see people who are truly happy. Like Sherlock - he's, damn, John, I don't think I've ever met a happier person, in my life. A few years ago, he wouldn't have even -" She stopped and took a breath. "Damn. That's something - it's quiet, but it isn't, is it?"

John shook his head and grinned. "A different kind of noisy." He paused and shoved his hands into his pockets. "It means a lot that you came, Donovan, I hope - you'll be brilliant. You will. Greg wouldn't have pushed you so hard if he didn't believe you were ready - he wouldn't leave if he didn't know you'd make a success out of it. If Sherlock hasn't invited you to stay - there's plenty of room at the moment -"

Donovan laughed. "I almost turned around a couple of times, and you don't know what it took to get out of the car. I just wanted to see, I dunno, to make sure. Maybe, one day, when London gets to be a bit of the wrong kind of noisy, I'll be back - this place could get under one's skin a bit too easily, time is - it feels like it slows down here - real life, the world, back there is so hyper - everything needs to be done yesterday, but I - for now, I need that. Know what I mean?" John nodded. "But, the offer means a lot, and when you guys have a batch of honey, I'd love a jar."

"You got it." John smiled at her as they turned back towards the farm. "So, what's the first thing you are going to do?"

"When I'm 'boss'?"

"Yeah."

"Get better coffee. Even if I have to pay for it myself. That stuff - I think it killed Greg's taste buds and sense of smell, he got used to it - you get used to things."

He nodded and they walked in silence back to the farm.

"Thanks, John. Tell Sherlock - wait." She spun around and watched Matilda drive up towards them. "Sherlock - on a tractor?"

"He actually let Greg drive it last time they were here."

"Hell, now I know I've entered the twilight zone, or something."

Sherlock turned off the tractor and jumped down, and offered her a bag. "The apples are finally ready - uhm, thank you, for coming - I know how hard it must have been."

Donovan shook her head and took the bag from him, and breathed in the scent. "Even the apples are better here - you have no idea. You two take care of him, and Molly - I have to go - traffic -" She turned and began to walk towards her car then spun around and walked back towards Sherlock and gave him a hug. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Sally." Sherlock held her gently for a moment then let her go. "You'll be great - but you know that."

"Yeah, yeah, I do." Donovan grinned at him then turned, flashed John a smile and strode to her car, then waved as she backed down the drive.

"She'll be back." Sherlock muttered.

"Yep. Liked the treehouse?"

"Loved it."

John shook his head and pulled Sherlock down into a kiss. "You're remarkable."

Sherlock shrugged and grinned at him. "I need a shower, maybe two, join me?"

"Always."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short bit today...

"Hey there."

"Greg?" John saved his draft and closed his laptop, then walked into the kitchen and turned on the kettle.

"Sally told me she visited you guys today."

"Yeah. Surprised me, didn't surprise Sherlock all that much. He figures she needed to make her peace with us, or something, before she started her new job."

Greg was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat. "It's funny, I've been doing this for so long, then to visit, have another life even for just a few days, and come back to this, the farm, it's a different life - it's essentially not even the same planet. I don't know how - if I can do this for another week, John."

John could hear the local in the background, a match was on, it was late for Greg to be out, even later than when they used to go out on their pub nights. "How's Molly?"

"Molly? She's fine, yeah, I know - I should be at home. I'm not drinking. I just needed - yeah, I'm going home. Thanks, John."

"Call me - at least text when you get home, yeah?"

Greg laughed, but muttered, "yeah, will do, John." 

John sighed as he ended the call, then made two mugs of tea, added the required amount for Sherlock, then carried them upstairs.

"How is Greg?" Sherlock muttered without looking up.

"He wants to be out of London, yesterday." He put Sherlock's mug on the bedside stand then walked around to his side of the bed, and rolled his eyes at the piles of drawings that covered the bed.

Sherlock gathered them up, a bit sheepishly. "I miss him, too - hell. That must sound -"

John grinned at him and shook his head as he sat back against his pillow and blew on his tea for a moment. "You two work well together, always have. It's good, for both of you - keeps you out of my hair."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him, pushed his papers to the floor and took John's tea from his hand and placed it next to his.

"Hey!" 

"Out of your hair, hmmm?" Sherlock ran his fingers through John's hair, and kissed him hungrily. "I - you do know, John - I - want this - all of this for us, for you - you are why -"

John nodded, then kissed him back gently, pushing his fingers into Sherlock's cap-matted curls. "I know, love. You are building our world, bit by bit - and it's - beautiful, just like you. You are so damn beautiful. I never tell you that enough." 

Sherlock looked away, but John touched him gently, and made him meet his eyes. "Truly breathtaking," John whispered as he lifted Sherlock's shirt over his head, and looked into his eyes again. "You are, so, very beautiful, my love."

"John. Please?" 

John laid a trembling finger to Sherlock's lips. "Shhh...."


	5. Chapter 5

"Come on."

"Hmmm?" John looked up from his laptop and saw Sherlock smiling at him.

"I want to show you something."

John sighed, looked at the empty screen and closed the laptop with no real regrets, then pushed away from the table, and took Sherlock's hand.

"Close your eyes."

John snorted, but closed his eyes, and let Sherlock lead him out the kitchen door and into the pasture. "You've been staring at that damn laptop for two days now - nope. No peeking. Almost there - open!"

John opened his eyes and grinned. "Sherlock -"

Sherlock sat down on the oversized picnic blanket under the apple tree and patted the place next to him. "Come. Sit. You needed to get outside, it's not too hot, finally not raining - come, sit. I went into the village this morning with Grace and - she's with Howard and Phil - they are working on something, won't tell me - secret project - she told me that you loved picnics when you were a kid, that there was a park you would go to, she'd make packets of sandwiches and a bottle of lemonade and you and Harry would play until you were exhausted, and then you'd lay out on the blanket, eat your sandwiches and take a nap." John nodded as he knelt down on the blanket then leaned over and kissed Sherlock before stretching out and laying his head in Sherlock's lap. Sherlock played with his hair and watched him close his eyes. "You're trying too hard, John, the words will come. You don't have to do or be anything here, you are enough, John. Do you know that?"

John opened his eyes and looked up into Sherlock's face. "I know - I just, you have a purpose here, and Mum - she's meant to be here - I need to be doing something."

"You are, John. You are here. Do you know how much it means to me that you are here, with me? Every day you teach me what love means, every time you reach for me, make sure I eat before I fall asleep into my plate, the way you are with Grace, I have been watching as you grow, John, I am so very fortunate to be the one who gets to love you - you are enough, John. As you are. Your words, are inside you, waiting for when you are ready."

John shook his head and sat up, then held Sherlock's face in his hands, and gazed into his bright green eyes for what seemed an eternity, then he kissed his forehead and laid back down in his lap and closed his eyes. Sherlock placed his long fingers into John's hair and rested them there, and simply listened; to the distant hum of the bees, the birds, the occasional passing car, Grace singing to herself as she picked apples from one of the other trees nearby, but mostly, he listened as John's breathing changed, felt as he relaxed his grip on Sherlock's thigh and he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

2 April

Another bad day. She was sleeping, then opened her eyes and -

 

Her mobile buzzed and she closed the book.

 

"Mum?"

"Harry - how are you? How is Clara?"

"We're fine. Just seeing how things are with you."

Grace took a breath before she spoke and let it out slowly. "I - Sherlock found my journals - I wrote every day - for twenty years. Usually just one sentence, sometimes longer. It's funny, I feel like I'm losing her again, Harry. The more I read about her - about me, about us, the less I know, if that makes sense, and John - he's struggling right now, because of me. And I don't know how to help him."

"You can't always - Clara - when we were first together and I had nightmares, she wanted me to talk, she thought if I talked about it, they would go away. It wasn't that simple. I had to learn how to trust her, I didn't know how to trust anyone, it took time before I believed she wasn't going to leave or hurt me. It's going to take time for him, for you, Mum - you have to learn to trust him too. Baby steps, Mum. If the journals are too much right now, put them aside. Maybe write new ones? Give yourself time, give John time. Just be there, being there and letting him know you are there may be enough right now. Okay?"

Grace nodded, forgetting Harry couldn't see her.

"Mum?"

"Yeah, you're right, Harry - Rome wasn't built in a day, was it?"

"Nope. How is Sherlock? And Gertrude..."

They talked for another half an hour before Grace yawned and looked at the time over the kitchen sink. "Sorry - you must be exhausted, and you have work tomorrow. Thank you, Harry. I -"

"Anytime, Mum, try to get some sleep, yeah?"

"I will, you too."

"Night, Mum." Harry ended the call and turned off her mobile, then turned to see Clara gazing at her. "What?"

"You."

"What about me?" Harry narrowed her eyes at her.

"Honestly, I wondered. If all this family stuff was going to be too much for you. I worried, until we were at the farm that first time, and you and John - you need him, them. All of it. And it's not simply because they are your family, but you love them, would love them even if they weren't, you belong to them, somehow. I've always believed we end up with the family we need - kind of, I don't know - "

Harry kissed her lightly and whispered, "I couldn't do this without you." She pulled away and looked into Clara's bright eyes. "You know that, don't you? I love them, and my life is so much better with them in it, again. But you, you are my home, Clara. They made me realise how much I have, how much I had been taking for granted for so long. You are my heart, Clara. I love you."

"I love you, Harry, so very much." Clara whispered as she spooned around her as she always had for over twenty years, then kissed her neck as she fell asleep. Harry closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath then thought of what it have been like for John to lose Sherlock for two years, what it must be like for her mum, to not have what she had, what they had.

"I love you, Clara." She whispered and kissed her fingers gently before finally drifting off to sleep.

 

John gazed into Sherlock's eyes, trying to keep them open as long as he could - he wanted to see, needed to see Sherlock's face change as John was bringing his love to the edge - "John - god - John, please -" John watched as Sherlock bit his lip then his eyes rolled back as John pushed in one last time and felt Sherlock let go. There was something so vulnerable in how Sherlock gave himself to John in this way, so open, so trusting, so beautiful. He waited as Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled gently up at him. "You're here, John, always here -" He reached up to touch John's face, and John nodded as he kissed his wrist.

"Yes, Sherlock. Always will be, love."

 

19 August

Em - I'm starting over today, love. I actually managed to sleep for more than a couple of hours, I can't remember the last time I slept so well and without dreams. Gertrude slept with me last night, she always seems to know...


End file.
